Walking The Line
by Rubbertoebehe
Summary: David is worried about his new and final year at McKinley High.  Should he join Glee club, can he handle the bullying?
1. Chapter 1

David sat on the bleachers looking over the football field, the grass perpetually dotted with dead patches. Hunching over, his elbows resting on his thighs, he sighed as the summer heat beat down on his neck.

It was a week before school was to start—his senior year. A whole other year, what was going to happen this time; thinking about it made him sweat, the sun only partially contributing to his perspiration.

The sudden loud, metallic footsteps approaching startled him. He looked up quickly to see Noah Puckerman walking up towards him. He kept his surprised gaze fixed on the boy. "H—how did you know I was here?" David asked.

Puck didn't answer him until he was sitting next to him; he sat and turned his head to look David in the eyes. "I swung by your house, you weren't there. I just…made a guess, that's all," he said with a shrug. David's countenance softened, but still his confusion lingered. Puck turned away to also look out across the field. "I could take a guess as to what's bothering you, but I'll ask anyways." After a long moment of waiting and staring out he spoke again. "Do I actually have to ask?" he said humorously.

David was still partially stunned by Puck's appearance. He was glad it was so hot out, he could easily disguise his blush for the burning heat. "Just thinking about the coming year," he said apprehensively, "and the perhapses."

"The perhapses?" Puck asked.

"Yeah," David said flatly, not registering Puck's mocking confusion. "So much happened last year—good and bad…mostly bad stuff—and I'm anxious about what's gonna happen this year."

"You gonna do Glee?" Puck asked casually, looking at David again expectantly.

"I uh—I don't know. I…" he hesitated for a moment. "I don't want to be called gay and stuff," he said, whispering the word gay.

"Dude you are gay," Puck said without missing a beat. "I have the hickies from the other night to prove it." He grinned as he said it; David was clearly uncomfortable as Puck spoke though, looking around to check if anyone could possibly be around. "And even if people do call you gay for joining the club, just forget about them all!"

"I guess…I mean still don't really kn—" David's thought was curtailed for Puck pressed his lips to David's, softly pinching his chin with his thumb and forefinger. David flinched for a moment before relaxing into the kiss.

Puck pulled back, still holding David's chin. "Join Glee club, dude. Now come home with me, let's get out of this heat."

David's gaze softened, light-headed from the kiss still. He stood with Puck and left the field, still dizzy, mindlessly following Puck's lead.


	2. Chapter 2

The first day of senior year—it was finally here. It was all decently calm enough, not as crazy has he had built it up in his mind. He still hadn't decided whether or not to join Glee club or not though. Going through the motions of the first day he wasn't completely attentive—like most everyone present—thinking about what he wanted, what Puck wanted for him, and how people would react to him.

The decision came to the forefront at lunch. David was sitting with a few guys from football when Puck came up to him. "We gotta talk, Karofsky," he said, putting on a facade only David saw through. Glancing at the guys he got up and walked with Puck, away from the lunch room into one of the deserted hallways.

"David, Glee club meets after school for the first time this year," he said much softer now, no one around to warrent false hostility. "Can I expect you to be there?"

David smirked, looking at Puck. He couldn't help but smile, seeing how hopeful Puck looked, wanting him to try Glee out. He threw cation to the wind. "Yeah, I'll be there," he said, smiling fully.

Puck also smiled, nearly reaching to hold David's hand, but stopping himself short. He glanced around as David continued to look at him, expecting more to be said. "Well uh I'll see you there then. I'll just go back to my uh…my table." He rubbed his forearm as he spoke and promptly walked past David, back to the lunch area.

He turned around to watch Puck leave. For a few spare seconds he watched him leave, looking at the nuances of his strut. He quickly looked away though, walking in the same direction back to his own table.

For the rest of the day he played out how his appearance would in the choir room would spark rage and vehement accusations towards him. Mr. Shuester would definitely come to his aid; Kurt would maybe support him, but if anything be indifferent. He mostly pondered how Puck would behave. Would he outright be there for him or would he put on another facade? Being yelled at by Finn, Mercedes, and Rachel was one thing, he could deal with that, but in that choir room, if he didn't have at least some encouragement he would crumble from embarrassment.

The final school bell rang out and everyone around him in his European History class simultaneously bolted from the room, along with the rest of the school. Football practice didn't start until 2:30; he had about half an hour. He slowly walked out of the classroom. It was buzzing with excitement. He began to make his way to the choir room. Suddenly the stares of others seemed to all be on him. He felt their curious glances crawling over his body like centipedes, asking questions, making judgments.

He walked the single, thin line of courage towards the choir room—down at the end of the hall. To his right was fleeting freedom, to his left was fear. He glanced at either side, now more confused than ever.

He was nearly at the choir room now; he could see the band as he looked in the room at an angle. Did they live there, were they really students or slaves to that room David thought to himself, trying to alleviate his mental stress. As he walked though he locked eyes with Finn Hudson, slouching in his chair before the meeting began. His stare didn't cringe or snarl in anyway like David imagined it would, but he still didn't want to push it. He realized that he really couldn't deal with them like he convinced himself he could.

Quickly he walked past the choir room door and down the hallway to his left. Immediately his blood ran cold. What a coward he said to himself as his face squeezed into what looked like he had something in his eyes.

After a moment more of walking he turned into the locker room, deciding to get ready half an hour early for practice.


	3. Chapter 3

Puck didn't show up to football practice that day. The entire time, David was off his game, zoning out often and paying the price for it with trips, blows to the side, and subsequent shouts from coach Beiste. The guilt of abandoning Puck eats away at his conscious, and the many tackles and taunts chip away at his ability to get up. After several stumbles and one final bad tackle, Beiste calls him in.

Coming up to her David feels the anxiety in his chest press further on him. He never enjoys the fury of the Beiste. To his surprise when he looks up at her he isn't met with a red-faced, vein-popping bear version of his coach, but with a stern, yet composed person.

"David, what the hell?" she inquires calmly. The complete juxtaposition of her words with how she says them throws him off. "You're playing like you're missing a chunk of your brain, and you're usually not so brain dead if you want my honest opinion. Would you like to tell me what's the matter or…?"

"I'm sorry, coach Beiste…I just don't really feel here right now, you know?" he says candidly. If he wasn't still focusing so much on where Puck was right now and how badly he hurt him he probably wouldn't have come off as so vulnerable.

"You're clearly not here right now, if it wasn't your big, bulky body prancing around out there I would have assumed Betty White snuck onto the field with a number 77 jersey."

David shifted his stance apprehensively; he didn't speak, but only looked at the practically empty bleachers and the distressed grass of the field.

"Hey does this have anything to do with Puckerman bailing on us?" She moved closer to him and patted her muscular hand on his arm. At the mention of Puck's name, David immediately tensed.

Cautious, David chose his words and their inflection thoughtfully. "What does he have anything to do with this?" he asked with a scathing tone.

Not perturbed in the slightest Coach Beiste stepped back from him, folding her arms over her chest. "So what, are you two quarreling or something?"

Dumbfounded by her implication David couldn't utter a coherent phrase. "What do you…we're not—"

"I saw you two yesterday, on the bleachers," she smirked like a teenage gossip.

Without even knowing it his actions yesterday inadvertently caused him to come out to his football coach. He was mortified; his heart rate increased suddenly and he couldn't focus. His reaction was clear to Coach Beiste for she pulled him over to the bench nearby.

"Dave, it's okay, it's okay," she consoled, rubbing his back, "you have nothing to be ashamed about." David still didn't speak. After a moment of silence Coach Beiste spoke up. "Dave, if you want you can excuse yourself from practice. I don't know what's going between you and Puckerman, and if you ever need anyone to talk about it with I would be more than happy to." David looked up from his hands just then to see a genuine smile spread across her face, crow's feet slitting around her eyes.

"Th—thank you, coach," he mumbled with embarrassment. He quickly rose from the rigid metal of the bench and walked quickly towards the locker room and the showers.


End file.
